


never seen a mouth that i would kill to kiss

by NeverMessWithTeddyBears



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, also i overuse that one (1) line from the comics, and i hint that frenchie loses a limb by the end, nor does she know sign language, the author is not proficient in golden age hollywood movies, the whole thing was better as just an idea in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverMessWithTeddyBears/pseuds/NeverMessWithTeddyBears
Summary: When Frenchie speaks, it's a whisper near the shell of her ear, and his breath brushes her skin like a ghost, "Show me, chérie, how you would say my name."
Relationships: The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro & The Frenchman, The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro/The Frenchman
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	never seen a mouth that i would kill to kiss

Her hands twist and turn, fingers creating words creating sentences, and there's anger in them, and frustration, and when she looks at Frenchie he's trying to catch the way her fingers move but is failing to understand what she is saying.

Kimiko's never had to quite know that before. Her brother's always understood her, and she's never tried with anyone else before. But she's trying now, and the pain of the confusion being all she gets back is heartbreaking. It piles up on the pain of not having anyone to understand her anymore. Not having her parents, her brother. Being alone in the world.

The looks used to be enough. But somewhere along the way their traumas came back to haunt them and their pain overcame them, and the wavelength of their connection was disturbed. Suddenly, Kimiko felt like she was screaming into a void, and she could see him screaming back but neither could hear nor understand.

It broke her heart, over and over again. But then:

"I don't understand what you're saying because _you won't teach me_!"

And that's when she thinks that maybe she didn't really want to be understood, because the anger was easier. The hate was easier. The pain and the detachment and the lonely crusade was easier than having anyone else you could lose. Than having anyone else you loved.

To be loved demands to first be known. And when she looks at Frenchie now - when she manages to let her anger go, when she is able to box it into a clear direction and not let it be a hurricane around her - she can feel his eyes dig deep into her and understand her again.

And when she teaches him the first word, she thinks they'll be okay.

* * *

Frenchie shows her how to dance.

Kimiko never expected him to have that much form; he always seemed like an intuitive person, someone who followed his instincts, who used the music as a guide in which direction to sway and lead him through the feeling in his bones.

But he holds her hands and pushes her close and shows her the waltz, and the tango, and the salsa. He's close to her, but respectful, and Kimiko lets herself bask in the intimacy of it.

When they're not dancing, she gets her hands on the Golden Age Hollywood musicals. Watches _Cover Girl_ six times and _Top Hat_ eight, dreams of Rita Hayworth and Ginger Rogers - who can do anything Fred Astaire does but backwards and in heels - uses her hands to quote most of the scenes by heart and only later notices how intently Frenchie pays attention to that, learning even when she's not teaching him, and it makes her smile.

When she presses play on _Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_ , she moves closer to Frenchie and lays her head on his shoulder, sneaking a hand to put her palm in his.

* * *

He's kissed her, once, yet Kimiko thinks how the feel of his hands under hers as she shapes them into positions of letters upon words upon sentences upon conversations is the most intimate she has ever been with him.

She knows Frenchie thinks she doesn't see him, and he closes his eyes at her touch for the shortest of moments, feels the position more than sees it, fingers and palms molded by hers. As soon as she's looking up at him, his eyes are open and on her, and Kimiko's still as touched by the emotions in them as she was the first time, still as struck by the unknown of it all; so similar to her brother's yet different, deep in different ways, loving in others.

He's close to her - so so close, but sober this time, not as erratic, some of that tragedy softened in his bones, and she knows he won't make another mistake, won't overstep the boundary of what she's ready into what she's not - and Kimiko fights a pleasurable shiver running through her spine. When Frenchie speaks, it's a whisper near the shell of her ear, and his breath brushes her skin like a ghost, "Show me, _chérie_ , how you would say my name."

She doesn't even have to think, instead immediately lets her hands move away from his and lifts her right hand up. Frenchie's looking at her, but his eyes move only to follow what she is doing. Her right thumb moves across her lips as she starts an S and finishes it by touching her heart. It reminds Frenchie of a prayer and a kiss all at once.

 _Serge_.

* * *

When he speaks French to her, she repeats it in her mind and commits it to memory, learning phrase after phrase even when he thinks she's not catching on. It leads to him still murmuring sweet nothings in her ear as they lie together in bed, clothes on under the warm covers, her head near his chest so she can hear his heartbeat when the night is quiet. He tells her beautiful things that make her heart ache, professes his loyalty and devotion and all the love she'd want to take that she'd have even without asking for it.

The next time he calls her _mon cœur_ , she pulls on his hand and twists her fingers over her heart. When Frenchie understands what she's doing he smiles and repeats the motion quickly, catching up on it a lot easier than he would've months ago. "Like this?" he asks.

Kimiko nods. Signs, " _Yes, Serge_." Places her free hand on his cheek, " _Mon cœur_."

The softness in his eyes warms her.

* * *

He spins her around one last time as the music behind them fades and Kimiko looks up, Frenchie's eyes already on her, like they've never even left.

She lets a hand sneak around to the back of his neck and lifts herself on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. Frenchie doesn't respond at first, still as if afraid that a movement would ruin the moment, would scare her away. It makes her smile.

When she moves to step away it's like he finally remember to react and he uses the hand on her waist to pull her closer, letting his arm go around her back as she's pressed into his chest, his open mouth finding Kimiko's as Frenchie deepens the kiss. Out of breath, he forces himself to move away but their foreheads touch and he nudges her nose with his. When he moves his head to the side, it's to whisper into her ear, and it still sends shivers down her spine like it did the first time.

" _Je t'aime_." Frenchie says. "From the first."

Kimiko nods, looks up. Signs it back.


End file.
